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Beneath a starry night in the ocean blue belonging to the west is Ooubli island, a war torn place where revolutions have left the towns an empty wreck and life an after thought. Broken and desolate the morale of the citizens is lost. But one thing seems to remain in the towns unable to escape from.

Crime.

Filled with crooks of all sorts, it was up to someone to bring the town back to peace.

Unfortunately that man was busy in the North Blue with a more pressing matter, so the next best thing was lying aboard the On the rocks naval ship. Hanging from the railings around the edge of the ship was Captain John Carpenter. Captain of the Gin Rockers and leader of a crew that no longer existed.

Filled with empty drink bottles Captain Carpenter had found himself alone aboard the ship due to his attitude. He'd once had a crew, a big one too. Full of soldiers who were at his beck and call. But when the call arrived and he rushed to the call something was standing in the way and it not only knocked him down a peg but put him in a situation he couldn't find a way out of.

Mutiny!

Having pushed his crew too hard, he pushed them away till the crew as a whole turned their backs on him leaving him to suffer. Taking the life boats, Captain Carpenter was alone and watching the world change before him. Hungover and cooking beneath the sun's warm glow he sat watching the island as his ship slowly drifted back and forth just out of reach of the island.

He'd heard there had been Naval soldiers on the island still trying to fight the good fight but with no crew or no numbers to call he had very little he could do even if he made his way on to the island.

Vaetric visibly jumped as yet another mortar shell hit their position, clinging onto his mop, ever so useful in times of battle, to which he was not accustomed to. Dirt and stone splashed the area around him, miraculously though he and the Marine soldiers with him were unharmed. Luck? Maybe. Still, how could the revolutionaries have mortars? Were they marine ones left in one of the outlying towns? He didn’t know, but apparently they were due to stop any time now. He was still waiting. One of the marines snickered. “Hey.. Hey choreboy, scared?” He grinned, muscular man, recruit, Vaetric didn’t like him, however he kept his eyes downcast. “Why don’t you clea-“ The same marine began, before he squeaked as a bullet passed through his cap.

Vaetric and the marine were unified in a decision to fall back. Soon however the fighting dimmed down, for now. Seems the actual soldiers were able to fight them to a stalemate. One of the lieutenants rolled his eyes distainfully. “Clean this up.” He gestured to the mud and debris. “Th.. The stone too, Sir?” Vae asked, looking at it the muck. “No, choreboy. Just the dirt, the civilians can clean their own mess.” Was his reply, leaving Vae to sigh inwardly, trudging over to the well to draw up a bucket of water.

With a heavy heart weighing him down, Captain John Carpenter took to the helm and guided the ship to the shore. Unsure of how close was too close, before the thought to check and maybe drop the anchor could pass his brain the ship jolted to a halt as it finally hit land.

Unsteady and unready John was thrown from the helm and landed on the deck. Painfully landing on his chest, John picked himself up cursing like a sailor.

"sonovabitch!"

Making his way over towards the edge of the ship, John leapt from the deck on to the beach. Upon arrival on the island of Ooubli, he reached into his pocket to remove a small flask. It was time to wake up.

Taking a deep swig, John headed off from the ship making his way further in land as he swept his hand from left to right.

Mute

Hearing the mortars working away in the distance sending tremors through the island John sighed. Tonight was going to be a long night. It could only get better if it started to rain.

Revolutions are the turning points in history. These were the moments that would bring men to fame or they would be lost to obscurity. Ensign Jonathan Vertz happened to be in the middle of one such turning point. The marine sat in one of the buildings behind enemy lines hearing the sound of mortars bombard into building threatening to bring it down on his team.

The young birkan sat with a couple other marines. All his superior in both age and rank. One of them peered through a crack in the wall before letting out a sigh.

"We still got a ways to go before we can even think about taking those dumbasses off the mortars." One of his superiors said.

"So what's the plan then?"

The building shook before the first marine spoke again.

"Well, we have to get out of here first... Ensign! You are to retreat from this place immediately."

"But I.."

"Yes, yes you found this place and you want to prove yourself. So does every star... You know what I don't have time. You are a liability. Get out or I will make you."

Jonathan gave a defiant look but after seeing the others stare at him seriously he turned and began to retreat back. Jonathan cursed as he exited the building beginning to make his way back to the safety of allied lines. He didn't get to far before he noticed a familiar building collapsing. Still running Jonathan decided, that if he was going to get noticed he was going to need another way.

So what was he supposed to do? Clean the dirt from the streets? During a battle? Was the lieutenant crazy, uptight or just plain stupid? Either way, it made Vaetric groan inwardly in frustration. There was a full out war going on not a few hundred meters from where he swept, and he was expected to mop up? Clean dirt that’s going to return with a vengeance in a few minutes? Really?

He continued to quietly rant about his predicament as he swept the streets. Not his job. He cleaned ships and Marine property. He wasn’t a builder. No point in cleaning something that’ll get dirty in a few moments.

He jumped as the mortars started again. The revolutionaries were supposed to have retreated! What gives? He looked around, not another soldier in sight, the fighting was probably away from his location, but still. He may have come from a family of fighters, but a fighter he was not.

Slowly retreating to “safety” by the side of a house, he stood awkwardly with his mop. To his left, his ears prickled as he heard someone speak.

“Marine!”

Yelping, Vaetric swept his broom into the man’s face, six foot, muscular, probably a revolutionary, could snap him like a twig, probably had friends, run.

As the man spluttered with soapy water in his face, Vaetric made a break for it toward the fighting, where at least there’d be combatants around.

Clouds in the night sky started to part revealing the moon, big bold and beautiful offering some form of illumination upon the island of Ooubli. As nice as it was, the war torn island being heavily bombarded with constant fire, Captain John Carpenter found himself closing in on the source.

The ground had begun rumbling a little more with each step and the sounds had grown louder. He could see the mortars firing their projectiles high into the sky and had already quickly spotted the direction in which their fire was aimed.

Standing atop a hill he took a swig from his flask and pocketed it once more. It was time he swooped in like a hawk and brought the mortar fire to an end.

Speedily sprinting towards them not making a single sound thanks to his devil fruit, John snatched up a rusted old bayonet from the ground prying it from the tip of a rifle belonging to a long deceased soldier.

Here went nothing he thought to himself as he an army of revolutionary scum stood before him each arming mortars one between two.

Three mortars fired towards the bar the Navy were currently holding fire.

Screaming out at the top of his lungs the leader of this small army stood tall in between his men holding out a sword pointing to the skies.

"RAIN A BLESSED HELLFIRE UPON THEM! IT'S TIME TO MEET THEIR MAKERS! GHASHISHISHISHISHISHI!!!"

Raising his left hand the leader gave a second command for another wave of this blessed hellfire as he called it to be launched.

Within moments of mentioning another load was launched sky high and the leader stepped forward kneeling on the ground as he looked over the ground of corpses which lay before him, not just the bodies of Marines lay before him, but soldiers of their own, citizens of the town and even their families

Any who dared trying to escape or bringing things to their knees any who opposed them or their will suffered the price and paid with their lives.

Escape from enemy lines. The order was so simple that Jonathan couldn't think of anyway to twist it in order to follow his superior. As he ran, he tried to think of a new way for him to spread his name. He never noticed the sounds of mortar fire that was smashing into the buildings around him. Nor the shadows that were moving in the corner of his eyes. It wasn't until something whiz pass his face did he notice something was up.

Looking over he saw standing a few feet away from him, a revolutionary with a smoking rifle. Jonathan frowned killing some unnamed peon wasn't going to be anything worth saying. Though he noticed that the rev wasn't alone. Looking around he noticed two more people appearing on both sides of him. Jonathan sighed as he flicked his wrist.

"3 on 1... Please let one of your heads be worth something. I don't wanna be killed by some cannon fodder."

The first Revolutionary began to fiddle with his gun. Jon guessed that it was one of those old flint locks that took a couple minutes to reload. Jon turned his head towards the revolutionaries next to him. Both only had blades.

[i]Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!]/i] Vaetric didn’t like swearing, but it’s different if it’s in his head, right? He ran as fast as his legs could take him, though it wasn’t long before he began to grow exhausted from the endeavour, running around and through mortar fire, keeping an eye on his surroundings, skies and streets. Apparently the revolutionaries were keen on getting themselves blown up with the Marines. Perfect, great, did they have to be so stupid? Vaetric spotted a ball arcing precariously close to where he was running, and made a sharp veer away, avoiding a blast.

He ran, he ran, he continued to run until he found a nice, inconspicuous bush outside the town or city. He noticed the mortar perch, but what could HE do? Just wait and see, he supposed. He winced as he also saw the mortar’s killcount, turning away from that gruesome sight and kept an eye on the revolutionaries, specifically their leader, who seemed to be laughing about it.

Well, for now he may as well stay right here, since there was no one around for now, at least.

With the bayonet in hand and the blade now deeply embedded into the kidneys of a revolutionary loading the mortar, Captain John Carpenter felt the life drain from his body and watched as blood spilled over the murky grounds.

Due to his mute powers the murder of the revolutionary went unnoticed. Grunting in agony the revolutionary fell to his knees to receive a strong kick to the face knocking him out cold leaving him to bleed out.

Tugging the bayonet free John sliced along the back of the revolutionary at the mortar. His back had been to John and his comrade who lay in a pool of crimson.

Slicing cleanly through the back of the revolutionaries neck John thrust the blade through the back of his neck tearing through the front. With more blood spilt and the mute powers still in effect, not one person noticed.

Removing the blade as the second body fell. John tossed the blade into the air and caught it between his teeth.

As horrid as death was, it was a necessity in war. With the blood not just on his hands but his suit now as well, John Carpenter snatched up another projectile for the mortar and loaded it in. His next plan would draw a little more attention and his mute powers would be useless.